


SpartanSiren's Drabble Collection: MakoHaru Edition

by SpartanSiren



Category: Free!
Genre: Accidents, Airplanes, Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blind Character, Blindness, Fire, Fluff, Funeral, Future Fic, Injury, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, fireman!makoto, tags will be updated as more chapters are added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-22 03:19:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2492519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpartanSiren/pseuds/SpartanSiren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a way for me to efficiently post my drabbles from Tumblr. Will be updated randomly. Rating may change depending on what I get in my inbox.</p><p>Have a prompt? Don't be shy! I would love to try and write it out!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1170 Main Street

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to tell me what you think in the comments below or in my Tumblr inbox (@ spartansiren.tumblr.com/ask).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto, now a firefighter, gets into a terrible accident while on the job in an apartment complex. Always thinking of everyone else but himself, he tries to wear a smile as he learns just how much the accident is going to affect the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Anon who sent this wonderful, sad prompt to me on Tumblr. Thank you very much for inspiring me!
> 
> Prompt: "Imagine Makoto getting involved in a serious accident and the kind and 'don't worry about me!' character finds himself in a permanent situation (paralysis? blindness?) where he'll always constant help from others. And he's just starting coming to terms with this whole thing but desperately tries to hold it together because it's okay, I'm alright, don't worry really. And then Haru visits him and something inside him just bURSTS and he finally reacts."

**Bandages**

As a firefighter, Makoto knew that severe injuries weren’t uncommon. The nature of his work was entirely too unpredictable for him to think otherwise; at least, that’s what he kept repeating to himself in his hospital bed, his eyes thoroughly covered by bandages.

As long as he could rationalize what happened, he told himself that he could pull it together and put on his usual smile for his (reasonably) concerned friends and family.

 

**Flames**

The fire in the apartment complex on 1170 Main was wild and untamable. The flames licked along the side of the pre-modern apartment building, slipping from window to window and room to room. Wide-eyed tenants speculated that it started in the boiler room, probably due to a neglected heating system that was too old to be safe–nothing too uncommon as enforcement over such things had dramatically slipped over the years.

Unfortunately for all involved, the fire wouldn’t be going down without a fight as there were three tenants that still hadn’t been accounted for.

Makoto made his final gear checks before grabbing an axe, ready to head in with three other firefighters in search for any (potentially trapped) survivors. He remembered taking his usual shaky breath, a last ditch attempt to calm his quaking nerves. He tightened his grip around the metal handle of the axe as the front doors were being kicked in.  _Now is not the time for hesitation_ , he reminded himself out of habit.

He couldn’t recall how long he had been in the building, breaking through cheap bedroom doors and calling out in hopes of finding one of the missing tenants, but he knew that he would never forget the sound of the voice that called out to him. It was a soft, small voice, belonging to a child; it was weak and strangled sounding from tears and smoke inhalation.

Makoto spotted her underneath a tiny, pink bed and he immediately crouched down and extended a hand in her direction.

“You’re safe now,” he called out. “I’m a firefighter –I’m here to help you!” The little girl scrambled out from beneath the bed and ran into his arms with a tearful yelp before letting herself cry again.

“Shh, shh,” he soothed tilting her face toward his. “I need to you calm down so I can give you some oxygen, okay?” The child nodded her head and Makoto let go, his fingers expertly removing his oxygen mask from his face. He felt vulnerable without it, but he knew she needed it more than he did.

“Now,” he began after securing the mask,” I need you to take deep breaths, alright? I’m going to pick you up and get us out of here.” He put his arms around the little girl and lifted her with ease, turning toward the bedroom doorway and walking out. He quickly gazed at his surroundings before choosing the safest route he could find to get them near the entrance.

“Good, good. You’re being so brave,” he said to the girl in his arms. “Just keep taking nice, slow breaths. We’ll be out of here soon, I promise.”

The stairwell was now in sight, and he moved toward it steadily, making sure not to jostle the little girl.

“Okay, we’re getting clo—”

“ _Watch out!_ ” The girl’s shrill cry came too late as a piece of the ceiling fell in top of them, knocking them to the floor and taking out Makoto’s helmet.

He remembered the sound of shrieking as he blacked out.

 

**Mom**

Makoto tried not to flinch at his mother’s tearful cry upon seeing him for the first time. Instead, he made his lips move into a small, comfortable smile.

“Mom.” Her arms wrapped around him tightly, rocking him gently from side-to-side as she let her tears fall. He felt his standard-issue hospital gown grow wet with tears. “Mom, don’t cry. I’m here. I’m alright.”

Of course, she only sobbed harder, digging her fingers into his shoulders while whispering brokenly in his ear, repeating cries of his name. He moved a hand into her hair and petted it soothingly.

Makoto found it hard to smile, but he upheld it for her.

 

**Twins**

His father came in about an hour later with the twins. Makoto refused to let his smile break, even after hearing the twins cry out to him, their usual call of “onii-chan” laced with tears and runny noses.

“Shh, shh,” he tried to reassure them too. “Onii-chan is right here, see? There’s no need to cry, okay?”

“You idiot, onii-chan!” Ran cried, Ren fast to echo her before they ran to the bed.

The two quickly made their way into the hospital bed, being careful not to tear out his IV and the wire on his right thumb that was connected to the EKG. They burrowed and surrounded him, quickly succumbing to their exhaustion.

Makoto looked toward where (he hoped) his mom and dad were standing, still smiling, even though he knew it probably only looked tired. He soon joined his sleeping siblings in their nap.

 

**Friends**

“Mako-chan! Mako-chan, where are you!?” Makoto was jostled from sleep at the sound of Nagisa’s frantic voice. He could hear his erratic footsteps against the tile in the hallway.

“He’s in here, Nagisa-kun. Room 217, just as the nurse said. Don’t get so worked up; you’ll only worry Makoto-senpai!” Rei’s stern voice chided. Makoto was glad that they came together. He was about to call out to them when—

“Oi! Keep it down, you idiots. Or else you’ll wake him up.” Rin. That was definitely unexpected. Makoto worked quickly to morph his shocked expression into his usual smile. This was going to be another hard visit to face.

“It’s okay!” He assured. “I’m already awake! You can come in!” Four sets of footsteps entered the room. Strange.

“Mako-chan!” Nagisa was by his bedside in an instant, taking his large hand in two of his smaller ones. “We were all so worried about you when we heard! Are you okay?” Makoto took a breath, about to speak. “No! Don’t answer that question! Of course you’re not okay! You’ve got bandages around your eyes, and you must have been so sca—”

“That’s enough, Nagisa.” Rin’s voice broke through; it was authoritative yet obviously strained. Makoto was sure that he had been crying recently as Rin always cried when it came to these kind of things. He was always so protective too. “He’s here to rest, so don’t even think about stressing him out.”

Oh, no. Makoto felt Nagisa’s hands give a small jerk. More tears were about to come, he was sure of it.

“That wasn’t necessary, Rin. You should apologize.” Low, baritone…

“Yamazaki-kun…?” Makoto questioned, receiving a soft, affirmative grunt in return.

The room fell silent for a moment before being broken by a hesitant sound. Someone stepped forward and placed something on his bedside table, and the scent of flowers drifted over to Makoto’s bed.

“W-we brought you flowers, Makoto-senpai,” Rei stammered, closer to Makoto than he was before. “We all hope you get better soon, and we’re so sorry that…” He drifted off and Makoto could hear him taking off his glasses, quickly followed by short sniffles.

Makoto took a deep breath and kept smiling, hoping it was warm enough to soothe his troubled friends.

“It’s okay, everyone,” he said, holding out his other hand, hopefully in Rei’s direction. “Thank you for the flowers; they’re wonderful.”

The four of them stayed for two hours. Makoto made sure to smile the entire time.

 

**Haruka**

He felt himself drifting off to sleep. It had been a long day, full of his usual, doting nurses, testing, visits from his family and friends, and, of course, constant bed rest and blacked out vision. Makoto was exhausted. But his meeting with the sandman was going to have to be postponed.

“Makoto.”

There it was. The voice that he had been simultaneously longing for and dreading to hear was right in the doorway. Makoto tried to move his lips into his familiar smile, but it felt more like a grimace –another failed attempt.

“Haru-chan.” His voice wasn’t working correctly either. It felt like there was a knot, like something was lodged in his vocal chords preventing him from speaking clearly like he wanted to –needed to do –right now. “Come in.”

Soft, light footsteps made their way toward his bed. Each one resounded in his chest, and, god, did the sensation hurt. The chair beside his bed squeaked as Haru sat, and Makoto’s stomach clenched.

“Makoto.” Haru’s voice was so small, so distressed, so choked, so unlike the Haru that he knew. He had never wanted to make him sad, to cause him to worry or be distressed. Makoto made a small choking sound as he failed to take in a steady stream of air. Why couldn’t he get any air?

Warmth. Small, familiar hands on his calmed him. These beautiful hands had never failed him, never hurt him. He trusted Haru so much it hurt.

“I’m here, Makoto,” Haru croaked, squeezing their entwined hands. “I’m right here. I’m here.” The chair squealed as Haru sat up abruptly, suddenly wrapping his arms around as much of Makoto as he could hold. Makoto’s body was shaking, the sobs that he had withheld so well breaking free of their containment.

“I’m so sorry, Haruka!” The words broke through the dam. “God, I’m so sorry.”

“Why didn’t you call me two days ago?” Haru shakily asked, his own tears beginning to fall. “I would have been here sooner.” Makoto moved a hand to his lover’s face, stroking his cheek in an effort to dry them.

“You were at your competition,” he explained, “I didn’t want you to miss it, Haru.”

“Y-you idiot!” Haru scolded him. “I don’t care about racing or–or competitions! You’re so much more important than that, Makoto! It’s meaningless without you, remember!?”

“I-I’m so sorry, Haru!” His lover only held him closer, pressing light kisses to what he could reach on his face, disrupting the salty, glistening trails on his reddened cheeks. Haru placed a quick, loving peck on his chapped lips.

“I love you, Makoto.” Another peck. “I’m so glad you’re still here with me.” A stroke of a finger on his cheek. “I’m so glad you’re safe now.” Makoto let out a broken sigh.

“I’m going to be blind, Haru,” he whispered into the small space between them, “The doctor told me yesterday that I have no chance of seeing ever again.” After a moment of complete silence, he felt Haru’s body let out a deep breath.

“We’ll deal with it, together.” Haru promised, moving his thumb in soothing motions across Makoto’s hand. “I’ll be here for you through every step. I promise you, we’ll get through this.”

Makoto let go of Haru’s hand in favor of wrapping his arms around his lover, sobbing into the comfortable crook of Haru’s shoulder and taking large, gulping breaths of his familiar scent.

He didn’t smile, but he had hope.

 

**Grave**

“What does it say, Haru?” Makoto asked, clenching the bouquet of roses in a large, trembling hand. His other one, as per usual, was occupied by his boyfriend’s.

“Her name was Inari. Sakamoto Inari.” Haru answered, “She was six years old and a beloved daughter and younger sister.” He gave Makoto’s shaking hand a reassuring squeeze before leading him to kneel just before the grave. Makoto laid the flowers on the small headstone and bowed his head.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you, Inari-chan.” He whispered in reverence. “I hope you’re somewhere better… and I hope you can forgive me.”

The couple stayed by the grave for the better part of an hour as Makoto wanted to be sure he thoroughly memorized the feel of the cold, rough stone with his hands. As they made their way through the cemetery’s gate, a warm summer breeze passed through, colliding with the two men.

Makoto swore he could feel her presence.


	2. Two Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru feels a surprisingly heavy weight on his right shoulder. His seatmate, much to his chagrin, has apparently decided that his shoulder makes for a lovely pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Makoharu plane AU in which Haru is feeling so freakin uncomfortable because the cute tall boy sitting next to him dozed off with his head on his shoulder and, really, he's quite heavy but he just won't wake up because Makoto was so nervous about his first flight he previously took a sleeping pill. As soon as he wakes up by the end of the flight, Haru has already forgiven him because. Wow. The boy really looks cute when embarrassed as hell.

Two hours left.  _Two hours_.

Haru had never hated the passing of time as much as he did now. Why did it have to move so slowly, anyway? Didn’t it know that he hated flying, that he had better things to do with his life than sit in an airborne tin can for hours on end?

He sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that hour before looking toward the in-flight movie. It was some American film about a teenage girl with cancer. How depressing. Not even remotely interested in what was happening on screen, he looked toward the window for some escape, immediately losing his gaze in the sight of the broad ocean below. The sun, reflecting off of its wave-disturbed surface, made the water shimmer like the finest of sapphires. Haru was transfixed.

That was, until he was disturbed by a heavy weight that landed on his right shoulder.

Affronted by the unexpected and unwanted presence, Haru turned his head sharply, intent on giving his seatmate what’s for, but he found he could not.

He was met with his seatmate’s face which had somehow made itself at home on his shoulder. His eyes, partially shielded by his light brown hair, were closed. His lips were slightly open, allowing warm puffs of air to escape into the open.

Haru groaned. Why did these things have to happen to him of all people?

Well, no sense in dwelling on it, he supposed. It was time to get to business.

Haru lifted his left hand up to his mouth and cleared his throat loudly, hoping to startle the man into wakefulness, but it had no effect. Haru tried again, putting more of his body into the cough. Same result.

_Well, third time’s the charm._

Haru let out the most forceful cough yet, jolting his seatmate violently in his effort. The noise caused the older lady from 46B to turn around, extending a fisted hand in his direction.

“You sound like you could use one of these,” she explained, dropping a cough drop into his palm. Haru stared at it in disbelief, only looking up at the woman when he heard laughter.

“Your boyfriend seems quite comfortable there,” she said, an expression of amusement written clearly on her face. Haru blushed.

“He’s not my—” He was interrupted with another chuckle.

“There’s no need to be so embarrassed. You make a very lovely couple.” The woman winked at him before turning around to focus on her knitting.

Haru cursed his seatmate for putting him in such an uncomfortable position.

——

Forty-five minutes left until landing, and Haru’s shoulder was aching. Whoever this man was, he was  _heavy_. Well, Haru supposed that wasn’t too surprising when taking his height into account. The man was tall and (not to mention) very handsome.

He had discovered that after about thirty minutes of trying to ignore the entire situation, when Haru had found that he couldn’t keep his gaze away from his seatmate forever. He slowly let his eyes draw over the man’s sleepy face.

And, god, his features were  _fantastic_. He had lovely, smooth, tanned skin that was sprinkled with a few freckles around the apples of his cheeks and on his perfect nose; his dark brown eyelashes fanned over the top-most part of his cheeks, fluttering every so often as he dreamed;  and –oh, his lips! –they were rosy and looked petal soft and looked so very inviting.

Haru firmly shut down that line of thought. Yes, his seatmate was attractive. That didn’t mean he had to fawn all over him.

But he could look at least, right…?

Haru spent the better part of an hour stealing glances every so often and abruptly turning toward his small window, only to repeat the maddening process over again.

He cursed his seatmate again as he rubbed at his cheeks, hoping the tell-tale blush would subside soon.

——

_Ding! Ding!_

“Ladies and gentlemen, as we start our descent, please make sure your seat is back and that the tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your safety belt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. Please turn off all electronic until we are safely parked at the gate. Thank you.”

Haru hummed contentedly. He had never been happier to hear an automated voice in his life. Soon he would be back in Tokyo, free to head to his apartment and take a long, well-deserved bath. And, best of all, his poor shoulder would finally get some relief! He looked down toward the source of discomfort and was surprised to find that he felt a twinge of disappointment. He really wanted to know more about the mysterious stranger… But why?

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Tokyo International Airport. Please make sure one last time your seat belt is securely fastened. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.”

His seatmate was still sleeping peacefully as they made their descent. Rather than look at the incoming ground, Haru held his gaze on the beautiful, brown-haired man.

He’d let him keep his post on his shoulder. Because really, he rationalized, there was no real reason to wake him up just yet.

——

“Hey, wake up.” Haru shook one of the man’s broad shoulders with his left hand. It was a most uncomfortable position, but his right arm was completely numb. “Come on. I’ve let you sleep long enough.”

A couple of shakes and nudges later, the man’s eyelids opened, revealing a set of wonderfully green eyes. Haru was, once again, transfixed. He was sure he looked like an idiot with his mouth slightly agape. In the back of his mind, he remembered an old American saying about catching flies; Haru promptly closed his mouth, hoping that the motion wasn’t too obvious to the sleep-addled man.

A large hand entered his vision as it moved toward one of those eyes, pawing at it drowsily.

“How—?” A large yawn shifted the man’s frame. “I’m sorry.” He lifted himself from Haru’s person before trying again. “How long was I out for, exactly?”

“Two hours, at least,” Haru answered, rotating his poor, abused shoulder. That caught his seatmate’s attention immediately. His pupils grew wide as a deep, red blush spread quickly over his face and down his (gorgeous) neck.

“I’m so sorry for invading your privacy!” He bowed his head as best he could in his seated position. Was this guy real? “I get really bad motion sickness, and I must have taken the wrong pill somehow!” His eyebrows were scrunched together and his eyes were clenched as he explained his way through his embarrassment.

_Cute._

“I promise, I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you, ah…” The man trailed off and looked up to meet Haru’s eyes. “I’m sorry, I never caught your name.”

“Nanase Haruka.” Haru gave the man what he hoped was a sweet smile. Judging from the man’s returning smile, it did the trick.

“Nanase-kun, then.” Haru wanted nothing more than to hear that sweet voice say his first name.

“You can call me Haru,” he said, surprising himself with his own words; that was definitely unexpected. However, in the interest of not making a complete fool of himself, he gave a gentle chuckle, playing it off. “Since we’re already so close.”

The man laughed in response to his quip and Haru practically  _swooned_  at the sound.

_Pull yourself together, Nanase._

“I’m glad to have met you, Haru.” A hand was extended in his direction. “I’m Tachibana Makoto. But you can just call me Makoto, if you’d like.” Haru took the proffered hand and gave it a quick shake, hoping his palm wasn’t as sweaty as he thought it was. Why was he so nervous?

Their hands remained together for far longer than what was normally appropriate. Realizing this, Haru’s blush returned and he looked away from his seatmate, retracting his hand in a way that was terribly unsubtle. God, he hoped Makoto hadn’t noticed.

Chancing a quick glance toward said man, he was happy to note that his cheeks were still a fine shade of red. His mouth was open as if he were trying to say something. He was obviously having some kind of trouble. How curious.

Well, not one to beat around the bush, Haru figured he’d at least ask.

“Makoto, what—?”

“Ladies and gentleman, welcome to Tokyo. The local time is 3:41 in the afternoon. The local temperature is…” The captain’s voice called out over the loudspeaker, his monotone drawl droning on and on to take them through the proper landing and exit procedures.

Fuck. Of course, he’d never find out what it was the other man was about to say. Haru watched out the window as the plane moved toward the terminal. Their time together was up. His lips fell into a disappointed frown. He felt Makoto slump back into his seat and take a deep breath. Was he disappointed as well?

The plane parked with a slight jerk and the passengers came to life around them, immediately jumping up to grab their luggage as quickly so as to get off of the vessel as soon as possible. The woman from before, 46B, met Haru’s gaze again as she removed her carry-on from her compartment.

“You two be good to each other now!” She practically sang before she made her way into the frenzy.

Makoto looked over at Haru, embarrassment clearly written on his highly expressive face.

“Did she mean what I –?”

“Don’t worry too much about it.” This was a disaster. “Come on, we should get going.”

Haru gripped the strap of his canvas bag tightly, waiting for Makoto to exit and allow him to get through. He really didn’t want to get yelled at by a flight attendant today. Ever the gentleman, Makoto moved into the aisle and allowed him access in front of him.

The two leisurely made their way through the terminal, retrieved their bags from the rotating carousel, and walked toward customs. The line was long and wound around a maze of grey, belted gates. It was going to be a while. They made their way to the end of the line and settled in, setting their bags down by their feet and sliding against the wall to sit at its base.

“So,” Makoto began, “Tell me about yourself. What were you doing in China?” His smile was so very warm and his green eyes flashed in excitement. “What do you do for a living? Do you live in Tokyo?”

“Don’t forget to breathe.” Haru nudged him playfully with his elbow. “I’m a chef at a small venue in town. They sent me over to Shanghai for a couple of weeks to study under a well-known chef. And I’ve lived in Tokyo for about five years now.” He turned toward Makoto. It was funny just how magnetic he was, always drawing Haru closer. “What about you?”

“I was sightseeing with an old friend,” Makoto answered. “I racked up a bit too much vacation time at the clinic where I work. I’m a veterinarian and I’ve been in Tokyo ever since I started college.” He chuckled. “It was quite the change for me since I’m originally from a small town near the coast.”

“Same here. I grew up in a small fishing village called Iwatobi,” Haru said. Makoto’s eyes widened in surprise before he let out a disbelieving bark of laughter.

“No way!” He exclaimed, “I lived in the next town over! I attended high school at Samezuka!”

“You must know Matsuoka Rin then,” Haru guessed. “He was probably there when you were.”

“Yes! I know him well!” Makoto said, a bright smile on his face, “We were in the same class, so he became a good friend of mine. Very stubborn, but passionate in everything he does.”

Haru chuckled. “That’s Rin alright.”

“I can’t believe it.” Makoto began, “We were so close, even had mutual friends, and yet we never knew of each other until now of all times!”

“Mm,” Haru hummed, his lips now seemingly stuck in a smile. “Life is funny like that sometimes.”

The two talked their way through the line, only separating as their luggage was examined by various customs officers; but, even then, it was only for a short time, as they met up again after being given clearance. They walked toward the airport’s entrance in companionable silence, both hoping to find an empty cab waiting for them. They looked together, becoming discouraged as each one they spotted was quickly taken by another passenger.

“Oh! There! I see one!” It had been about ten minutes since they began their search. Eager to get to their respective homes, they ran toward the car.

“You should take it, Haru,” Makoto offered. “You live closer than I do.”

Haru shook his head. “Don’t worry about me,” he assured, “I’ll catch the next one.”

Makoto gave him a quick look, asking him if he was really sure before giving the driver his bags. He looked hesitant as he climbed into the cab. He closed the door behind him and it felt so  _final_. Haru watched as he bit his lips nervously through the window.

_Is this what I want…?_

As the cab driver made his way toward the driver’s side, Haru knew that he couldn’t just give Makoto up so easily. He wanted to get to know the man better, learn more about his interests, his siblings, his memories from school. He wanted to see more of those green eyes and figure out just how many expressions Makoto’s lovely face could make, and learn to decipher what they all meant.

Haru jogged up to the door and knocked on the glass. The driver looked most perturbed as Makoto held up a finger, politely asking him to wait as he rolled down his window.

“What is it, Haru?” Makoto asked.

“Have coffee with me sometime,” he blurted out.

_Smooth, Nanase._

“W-what?” Makoto’s brows furrowed together in confusion. Haru wanted to groan as he grew more flustered. By some miracle, he managed to hold it in, squeezing the hand in his jacket pocking into a white-knuckled fist.

“I don’t want this to be the end,” he explained, “So I’m asking you out.”

It was Makoto’s turn to flush and look away. “L-like as friends or…?” He let the sentence drop, questioning Haru’s intentions.

Haru steeled himself before answering, “I was hoping it would be more like a date…”

He waited patiently for Makoto’s reaction, nearly admonishing himself for being so forward when he barely knew the guy.

_What if he’s straight?_

Makoto lifted his head again, his droopy green eyes complimenting the absolutely stunning smile on his face.

“I’d like that very much, Haru,” he replied, his voice gentle and sincere. Haru couldn’t help but give him a smile in return, pulling out his phone and extending it toward Makoto, non-verbally asking for his number.

Makoto took the device and entered his number before handing the device back to its owner. Their hands brushed momentarily, filling Haru’s chest with a tingling, warming sensation. That would take some getting used to.

“Text me, okay?” Makoto said, angling his head slightly to the side. How could one man possibly be so cute?

Haru gave a quick nod, he didn’t quite trust his voice to do the job.

“I’ll talk to you later then, Haru,” Makoto said with a small wave. “Goodbye.”

And, with that, he rolled up the window, giving the driver a signal to leave. Less than ten seconds later, the cab was gone, leaving Haru to stand stupidly on the curbside with a dopey smile and his phone slightly extended from his body.

A horn honked, knocking him out of his daze. He looked up to see an almost identical taxi. Feeling a little disappointed that it wasn’t Makoto’s cab, he climbed in and gave the driver his address in his usual monotone.

As the driver pulled out into the roadway, Haru directed his gaze back toward his phone. He made quick work of unlocking it and opening up his contacts and searching for Makoto’s name. Seeing the words on his phone made his stomach feel strange. His thumb hovered over the green button as he stared down at the device. He shook his head. There was no need to be nervous after all, not if it was Makoto.

Keeping that thought firmly in his mind, he pressed down on the button, perhaps more forcefully that usual. After two rings, the other line connected.

“Hello…?” Makoto’s voice questioned. Haru relaxed into his seat with a deep, relaxing breath.

“Hello, Makoto.”

Light, lovely laughter filled his ears.

Haru felt like he could fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: I’ve only been on a plane once when I was six years old, so the announcements were slightly versions of scripts that I saw on this site: http://airodyssey.net/reference/inflight/
> 
> I also had some musical inspiration this time around in the form of "White Winter Hymnal" covered by Pentatonix and "Married Life" from the Up Soundtrack.


	3. The Sprain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Haru's been injured and isn't allowed to swim for a while, but Makoto is doing everything he can to make Haru smile while his boyfriend is so down in the dumps<3

“Haru! Be careful! You don’t want to hurt your other ankle, do you?”

That Makoto. He was being a busybody again, constantly hovering over him ever since he got this stupid, superficial injury. He glared down at his brace in disdain; he had been doing that a lot lately. Probably because he hadn’t been able to swim for weeks now –doctor’s orders because of his _definitely moderate_ sprain.

Haru had vehemently cursed his bad luck. Of course, the _one_ time he fell near the bottom of the stone steps, he would have to land incorrectly on his ankle. He remembered how Makoto fussed over him, carrying him to the Tachibana residence before looking over the injury. As it began to swell and redden, the gentle teen mothered him more and more, laying him down on the couch and grabbing him and ice pack and a pillow before calling for his mom so she could take him to the doctor’s office.

“I’m sorry, Nanase-kun,” the scrub-clad man had said, reading over a clip board. “You have a pretty bad sprain here. You’re going to need to stay off of that ankle for at least three weeks.”

“Can he swim, sir?” Makoto asked, always keeping his most pressing concerns in mind. Bless him.

“I’m sorry, but no,” the doctor answered, much to Haru’s increasing disdain. “We wouldn’t want to put any extra strain on the injury, how would we?”

Haru sighed in defeat before looking out the window, letting Makoto take care of the details…

“Haru! You know you can’t get down the stairs on your own with those crutches! Wait for me!” His boyfriend called out. Haru could hear him running to catch up. He kept walking.

“I can do it by myself,” he groused, his stubborn nature rearing its ugly head as Makoto appeared by his side. He had finally caught up.

“But, Haru-chan,” Makoto said as he tried to control his light panting, “You nearly fell last time. Let me carry you. Please.”

Haru rolled his eyes before relenting, standing still so Makoto could get ahold of him. He didn’t want to have to wait another three weeks, after all. Makoto smiled down at him and picked him up. Haru moved the crutches out of the way before they began their descent.

“I’ll take you to the pool later, okay?” Makoto offered once they neared the bottom of the stairs. “We can take off your brace for a bit so you can stick your feet in the water.”

“Mm,” Haru grunted, still not in the mood to talk. Sensing this, Makoto leaned his face toward his own, giving him a quick peck on the forehead before letting him down to the ground slowly.

The walk to school was a long one, but Makoto made sure to fill the silence as per usual. Haru was thankful to have that small piece of normalcy at least.

\----

School had been as long and dull as it usually was, leaving Haru exhausted long before the building’s intercom system let out a telling tri-tone to signal the end of the day. He was slumped over his tiny desk, his head resting on his crossed arms and pointed toward the window. Another day without swimming; he felt so trapped and so utterly _parched_.

Through his haze of self-pity, Haru vaguely recognized Makoto’s footsteps heading toward his direction, but didn’t bother to look up. The thought of lifting his head made him want to slump further down. A warm, slightly balmy hand was placed on his shoulder.

“Come on, Haru-chan,” Makoto soothed. “I have a surprise for you.”

He turned his head to face his boyfriend, his eyes narrowing on the taller teen’s smiling face in question. Didn’t he already reveal the surprise during their walk to school?

Makoto continued to smile and turned his hand around in his usual gesture. Haru hesitated for a moment before taking it, wondering what Makoto had planned.

The two made their way through the school’s halls and Haru immediately realized that they were indeed headed toward the pool. He felt so conflicted. Of course, seeing the water would be nice, but it was nothing compared to being _inside_ of it. Feeling the weightlessness and freedom that came with sinking into its clear depths.

“Haru-chan?” Makoto questioned, immediately jolting Haru back into the present. “You there?” They were in the swim club’s locker room and Makoto was holding out one of his favorite pairs of jammers. Now it was Haru’s turn to be confused.

“When did you grab those?” He asked.

“Right after you went out the door. I tried to get you to wait, but you seemed to be preoccupied this morning.” Haru took the swim suit from him and sat on the wooden bend in the middle of the room, carefully balancing his crutches against the structure. He began the, now difficult, process of changing; his shirt and tie were easy, but his pants were another story all together, always getting impossibly bunched around the bulky ankle brace. Putting on his lycra nightmare of a swimsuit was yet another disaster.

He was starting to think that the whole idea was too troublesome if it meant that he only got to stick his feet in the water when he noticed Makoto changing. He had just stripped off his shirt, revealing his, as Gou often noted, gorgeous back muscles; Haru was definitely inclined to agree with her. Makoto was built like a true work of art with his firm muscles and sharp angles.

As if he had sensed Haru’s eyes on his person, Makoto turned around, giving him a knowing look with a hint of his usual embarrassment. His boyfriend really was too much. Haru was beginning to feel really bad about how he had been acting throughout this entire ordeal. Makoto was truly some sort of saint to put up with him on a daily basis.

Their eyes remained locked on each other, engaged in another one of their wordless conversations that they were so known for. Unable to hold his gaze any longer, Haru looked toward the back wall and let Makoto change in peace, a slight flush tinged his normally pale cheeks.

The telling snap of the waistband of Makoto’s jammers was Haru’s cue to turn around.

“You ready, Haru?”

“Hold on,” he answered, reaching down toward his brace, “I need to get this thing off first.” He quickly unfastened the Velcro straps and gingerly slipped off the brace. His ankle, so used to the tight hug of the material, felt strange and tingly. He resisted the urge to rotate and stretch out his limb. He looked up toward Makoto. Once again, that palm was extended toward him to help him from the bench.

“I’ll carry you to the pool, okay?” Makoto asked. Haru placed his hand in Makoto’s and let the taller boy do as he wished, lifting him up with a small grunt. When he was safely perched in his boyfriend’s strong arms, Haru let himself relax. Makoto always had that effect on him, even during his moodier days.

Makoto had him to the edge of the pool in moments, setting him down as gently as he could manage with the awkward angle. Haru shivered as his feet breached the water’s surface. God, how he missed it. Makoto gave the top of his head a quick peck before he lowered himself into the pool and opened his arms to Haru. The injured teen gave him a questioning look. Was Makoto really going to let him swim?

“I thought we’d try something different today,” he explained, arms still beckoning. Well, it wasn’t as if Haru could refuse. He used his arms to lower himself to Makoto’s level, trying to keep his ankle as still as possible. Makoto’s hand immediately reached for him, keeping him level.

“We’ll have to be careful not to hurt your sprain,” Makoto said, keeping an eye on the aforementioned injury. “Let me do all the work, Haru-chan.” Haru nodded and Makoto moved his back to the water, supporting him by keeping his hands on Haru’s sides. He began dragging him slowly through the water.

Haru’s eyes lulled closed and a small smile graced his face.

“I’ve been waiting to see that for weeks,” Makoto said in a soft voice. “You’ve been so upset after your fall. I wanted to do anything I could to make you smile again.”

Haru’s eyes opened wide at Makoto’s admission, immediately seeing the relief Makoto felt in the depths of his expressive green eyes. His boyfriend’s blunt, sentimental moments, though numerous, never failed to catch him off guard. But Haru, never one to react in these situations, simply closed his eyes and let himself relax back into the water.

“Thank you, Makoto.”

His cheeks wouldn’t stop burning, but Makoto never said a word. His smile secretly grew in size.


	4. Dirt on the Top

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i’ve been wondering lately what if makoto died when he drowned despite all the cpr haru would give him. i really want to know how haru would be without him, will he have no motivation to even get out of the bed? if the fight with makoto made him depress and be all that he was in australia, what more if no force in the whole universe would bring back makoto to life wow (http://lordzuuko.tumblr.com/post/102408056823)
> 
> For lordzuuko and everyone else who contributed to this utterly heartbreaking thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Major character death and angst in this chapter!

Black. It was the one color that should never have been associated with Tachibana Makoto. And yet, there he was, dressed in a crisp black suit inside of a stuffy black box. It wasn’t right and it made Haru want to throw up. He wanted to scream as they lowered his cold, lifeless body into the ground while his mother and the twins cried next to him, secured in the strong arms of Makoto’s father.

All he could do was stand as still and lifeless as Makoto was now.

_It’s all your fault._

He clenched his fist in a tight ball. He felt his fingernails digging into the flesh of his palm, but couldn’t bring himself to stop. The pain was nothing compared to losing his best friend, his first love, his _Makoto_. The boy who should be breathing and smiling and telling him not to worry, _Haru-chan_.

A harsh sound stole his hardened gaze from the hole in the ground. He looked up to find Rei clutching at Nagisa’s jacket, heaving disgusting, snotty sobs into the fabric. Haru narrowed his eyes into thin slits, his eyebrows folding tightly inward.

_It’s all_ his _fault. It’sallhisfault. It’s. All. His. Fault._ **His fault.**

Haru seethed and quickly looked away from the two; he couldn’t bare looking at the face of Makoto’s _murderer_. And to think he had thought that _viper_ to be a friend! He should have never allowed him to join the swim club; his distaste for swimming had surely been a sign, a bad omen—

“Haru.”

The lithe teen looked up to find Rin at his side, no tears in his eyes today. Oh, how Australia had changed him, though, perhaps it had been for the better. Haru couldn’t deal with anymore crying today. Not when he felt so broken.

He turned his head away from the redhead, keeping his eyes level with Makoto’s plot. The grave hands were shoveling dirt into it now, the _thunk, thunk, thunk_ of dirt hitting wood making his chest crack and ache.

_He’s gone now. He’s so far away._

“I’m sorry about Makoto,” Rin said, stuffing his hands into his pockets awkwardly. How could it have not been awkward though? Only a couple of weeks ago, Rin seemed to hate his guts, fueled by his rage and drive to beat him in the water. And _for what?_

Swimming couldn’t possibly matter anymore, not without Makoto. Haru couldn’t bring himself to even look at the ocean or fill his bathtub in the morning. The water, which he so loved before, had betrayed him, had taken his most precious person away from him. How was he ever supposed to forgive that?

A hand clamped down on Haru’s shoulder, shaking yet firmly gripping onto the fabric of his button-up. It remained there as the dirt piled up, little by little, covering the boy Haru _couldn’t_ live without.

_Thunk, thunk, thunk._

The hand slid down Haru’s arm before returning to Rin’s pocket. A quick sniffle. Shuffling feet.

“I have to go,” he said, turning away. “But I’ll be here for you, Haru. If you’ll let me.”

A slight, stinted nod and then footsteps. No good-byes.

 

He was all alone. Haru, the slowly piling dirt, and the half-buried corpse of his former best friend.


End file.
